


Arms

by castielnov4k



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Crying, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Guilt, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Past Character Death, Sadness, Sleep, dream - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 15:56:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3140120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielnov4k/pseuds/castielnov4k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean feels like hell for failing every godforsaken thing he cares about. But one of these things is here now to numb the pain, if only for the time it takes to fall back asleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arms

"Hey Dean," a voice purred from the shadows.

He found himself in a dark room, the only source of light being the moonlight streaming in through the broken windows. The ground was cemented and hard under his feet. He looked up to see a blonde figure step out from the shadows.

"Jo?" he quavered shakily.

"Miss me?" Jo Harvelle laughed at him. "I guess not. You were too busy pushing down guilt about my death, huh. About leaving me to die."

"Jo," Dean whispered. "I'm sorr-"

"Don't you say you're sorry, boy," Ellen's voice barked as her form appeared. "Don't you dare. No amount of apologies can make up for the fact that you killed us. Or as good as. And then, what, you became _buddies_ with that demon bitch who sent those hellhounds after us in the first place?"

"We weren't friends," Dean insisted.

"Right," Jo laughed sarcastically, her face twisting into an ugly expression that was unlike her.

"And what about me, Dean?" Kevin's voice implored from behind him. Dean span around to face Kevin Tran, who to his horror, had two bloody eye sockets instead of eyes. "You forget me too?"

"Kevin, I'm sorry," Dean cried in a broken voice.

More forms began appearing around Dean, surrounding him and screaming at him. Victor Henriksen, Pamela, Mary Winchester, John Winchester, Jessica, Deana Campbell, everybody who they couldn't save. All the people who had been possessed and been subsequently stabbed with Ruby's knife or shot by the Colt. They all pressed closer to Dean as he shouted apologies until his throat grew hoarse and his eyes were swollen with tears. He finally collapsed on the cold and unforgiving floor, and the figures swarmed in to suffocate him.

"Dean," a voice, unlike the others, called. It was warbled and faint, as if from a distance. "Dean."

Dean blinked his eyes open to find himself sobbing desperately and rocking back and forth in his bed. He could still hear the voices screaming at him, and he could feel his heart racing as death moved in.

"Dean, it's ok," the voice, clearer now, murmured in his ear. "Shh. It's ok. Breathe."

He became aware of arms, lean and strong, wrapping around his waist. His breathing became more steady as he breathed in the comforting smell of air and water that surrounded him now. He automatically sank back into the warmth of the soft body, firm underneath the skin. The tears, however, continued streaming down his cheeks.

"Dead, they're all dead. All my fault," Dean choked into his pillow.

"Shh," Cas pleaded softly. "You did all you could for them, Dean. They know that."

"Wasn't enough," Dean mumbled, too caught up to register the fact that his best friend was currently holding him like they were lovers. All that he knew was that Cas was here and that it felt right. It felt natural. "Wasn't... enough."

Cas moved so that he found Dean's hands, and entwined their arms together.

"It's ok, Dean. For tonight, it's ok. Sleep now."

Dean heard the quiet request and his body responded by relaxing further into the arms that held him. He drifted into a calm and dreamless sleep, strengthened by the stability of the solid body that was supporting him now.


End file.
